


Poison/Cure

by starrylitme



Series: I Want To Live; I'm Grateful I Was Born [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Zero, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Asphyxiation, Blood and Violence, Boys Kissing, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Despair Era (Dangan Ronpa), Disturbing Themes, Established Relationship, Hope vs. Despair, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mutilation, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Remnants of Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, Suggestive Themes, Ultimate Despair (Dangan Ronpa)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 18:19:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14455044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: I don’t care if nobody understands meIt’ll only take one second for the world of our [beliefs] to fall apart, after allKomaeda, Kamukura, and the fallout of despair. They only really get along because of that one person, right?(Written for Komaeda's birthday!)





	Poison/Cure

**Author's Note:**

> Out of the four songs, this one is the most loosely connected but eh I still tried to make it work. Honestly that's pretty expectable since Poison is clearly about Chapter 5 in canon even if it's part of a DRAE single. Anyway here's the KamuKoma fic.
> 
> It's very much a direct sequel to the last fic so I don't know how well you can follow it if you haven't read that one but... Eh, it shouldn't be too difficult, I think?? Sorry if I'm wrong. ;;
> 
> It's been a while since I wrote despair KamuKoma and...this is very different to the stuff I used to write. Hm, hm. And yeah the KomaHina in this fic............. It's weird. :'D
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! It's still Komaeda's birthdayyyyy (in Japan)!

Despair is everything. He hates it more than anything. But it’s everything and everywhere and there’s no denying it.

It permeates the streets, the skies, and the people scuttling by. Everywhere he looks, there’s a barrage of her twisted work and her twisted laughter and smiles. He supposed, if there was a word for her at this state, in this despairful situation, it’d be something like God.

_Haha. God. **God.**_

God had taken Matsuda Yasuke, after all. And what despair that had led to! Not just for him but for the thing Matsuda had left behind. That failed experiment of hope. The encapsulation of _talent_. That worthless, wonderful—

“Kamukura-kun! What fortune!”

_Now is it good luck or bad luck? With Kamukura-kun, it’s my only chance at an impartial roulette where I truly don’t know what to expect._

And what a feeling that was!

Kamukura glances at him briefly, dispassionate. Then just like that, his gaze flickers back to surveying the ruined world spread out before him.

Sometimes, Matsuda would do that. Look and then look away. It’s funny. Kamukura has a lot of Matsuda Yasuke’s thoughtless ticks. It’s funny.

It’s beyond infuriating. Something as wretched as Kamukura being a living reminder of Matsuda’s immaculate handiwork. Every day he’s reminded, he hates Kamukura even more. His own adoring memories of Matsuda shudder even more.

“You know, the others are really upset at you sabotaging some of their missions,” Komaeda said. “Your tantrums just inconvenience them and it’s more annoying than despairing. And they tend to vent their frustrations on me! Because they think we’re close!”

_And how infuriating that is!_

“I’ve told them constantly that I just look out for you for Matsuda-kun’s sake...” And he just gets spits and jeers in response. “It has nothing to do with despair! Your presence is despairing, don’t get me wrong...”

Komaeda trails off. Kamukura still hasn’t said anything. Of course not. Kamukura is ignoring him as though he were nothing more than a bug. It’s fitting.

Sometimes a bug would land on Kamukura’s eye and he wouldn’t even blink it off.

Kamukura Izuru was really, really creepy.

He didn’t like him at all.

“Urgh. You’re so disgusting that it’s distracting.” Komaeda shook his head furiously. “Anyway, cause less trouble! Or cause more trouble! These half-assed methods are just boring, Kamukura-kun! When you tamper with a bomb, you should have it go off sooner or later than expected, not turn it into a dud! Otherwise there’s no despair! No hope! It’s worthless!”

He puts his hands on his hips, sneering.

“Just because you’re worthless doesn’t mean you should spread worthlessness wherever you go,” he said haughtily. “Even _I_ know better than that.”

Again. No response. And, aside from his long black hair billowing in the wind, Kamukura Izuru was completely unmoved.

Komaeda pouted. Then, with a huff, he lunged forward to latch onto Kamukura’s arm.

“You should at least nod when a person’s talking!”

He stumbles a bit, losing his balance and having to brace himself on Kamukura so as to not fall. It’s infuriating.

_Kamukura-kun really is beyond infuriating!_

And, still, of course, Kamukura had given no visible nor discernible response nor even acknowledgement.

Komaeda puffed out his cheeks further.

“Kamukura-kun, is there even anything going on in your head right now? Or is your head stuffed with so much worthless talent that you can’t even spare any room for thought?!”

Digging his fingers in, Komaeda tugged at him.

“Kamukura-kun...!”

Then, just like that, the ground beneath them collapsed.

Kamukura, for once, reacts quickly, twisting and moving, slipping through his fingers like water and yet—

Kamukura grabs the back of his hood and yanks him backwards.

His heart races, everything slides and scatters. Dust gets in his eyes so he ends up squeezing them tight.

He’s sure he let out a yelp. He’s not sure. It hurts. It’s loud.

And it’s over pretty quickly.

“There was only one delicate point you could step onto to cause that collapse,” Kamukura said, voice a low hum against his ear. “Of course, I had expected this.”

“And of course you didn’t care to warn me,” Komaeda huffed, rubbing irritably at his eyes. “You’re a piece of work, Kamukura Izuru-kun.”

When he finally opened them, stinging and irritated as they were, he registered just how closely Kamukura held him and promptly shoved him away in disgust.

He stumbled once more, rubbing at his ankle.

_Kamukura-kun probably prevented an injury._

What a despicable thought.

He catches his breath, and reaches up to grasp his pendant. Such an action always calmed him—

Except. It wasn’t there.

He checks his person, his coat, the inside of his clothes. He looks down. He looks around.

“Where...?” He nearly trips are he searches, his shaking getting worse and worse. “Where, where, where?”

_Ah. Under the rubble, maybe?_

He drops down and starts to dig.

“It... It has to be around here somewhere...”

He digs and digs. Somewhere, there’s an explosion. A cacophony of screams. He hardly notices. All he can focus on is the lack of a glimmering pendant in sight.

Another explosion. Or perhaps another building just collapsing. He can’t be sure. It doesn’t matter. He needs to find his necklace.

_It was just around my neck, which means it can’t have gone far. I should be able to find it. I have luck, I have luck—!_

His fingers are deep in the debris, and still, there’s nothing.

_Why is it still lost if I have luck?!_

He didn’t understand. He just didn’t understand. But he had to keep searching. He had to.

“Komaeda Nagito.”

He doesn’t flinch; he had almost forgotten Kamukura in his panic.

“Finding shelter will be optimal in less than five minutes. If you remain out in the open, it will be dangerous.”

“I don’t really care about danger,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I’ll be fine. My luck... My _luck_...”

_Where is it?_

“In this state if you continue your search, you will get injured. That I can calculate with certainty.”

Komaeda whipped back to glare at him fiercely.

“ _Can you now_ ,” he sneers. “That really is incredible, Kamukura-kun. Amazing! As expected! Then help me find it!”

“It is buried deep,” Kamukura said. “It will take time to uncover. Too much time. Shelter should be a priority.”

“Obviously it won’t take as much time if you started right away instead of standing there like _a fucking lamp_!” Komaeda screeched. “If you’re that concerned, then just go! _Leave_!”

Kamukura doesn’t so much as blink.

It’s infuriating. So infuriating he could cry!

Another explosion, and then, rumbling. Suddenly, he doesn’t have any time at all, not even to protest as Kamukura pulls him away. One minute he’s still digging, the next, Kamukura sweeps him away as if it’s nothing.

_It’s really so infuriating._

* * *

As per usual, the place they take refuge has been long abandoned. It seemed to have been an office building of some kind, solidly structured and fortified against earthquakes and other natural disasters. It was in pieces, now, with tiles cracked and scattered, and several pieces of furniture knocked over if not destroy. It’s really dusty, so Komaeda pulls up his shirt.

Kamukura strides in, brushing his own hair back as he does. He goes to seat himself in one of the upright chairs, and Komaeda picks at the dirt between under his nails.

Once more, the ground shudders.

“This should be safe for now,” he said. “Once done, they will escape in the opposite direction. Nothing to worry about.”

_Nothing, Kamukura-kun says. There’s really nothing._

Komaeda bites his tongue and cleans off the couch to sit on. It’s worn, it’s torn, but it’s perfectly usable.

Without the pendant, he grabs at his neck instead. There had been so many times before where he couldn’t stop himself from squeezing until past the point it hurt. Without the necklace, it’s the easiest it’s been for a while.

“...Matsuda-kun gave me that,” he whispered. “For my birthday. Because. We were friends. Up until that point, I had never received a present from a friend before.”

There’s no response from Kamukura. That’s fine. He didn’t expect one.

He starts to squeeze.

“A-Aha. Did Kamukura-kun receive a present from him, too? I wonder if you did. Sometimes, I really am envious, not at all because of what you can do but because Matsuda-kun spent so much time around you. I was so curious as to what he was up to, but... I never would’ve imagine...”

And squeeze.

“N-Never...something like...that...like _you_...”

And _squeeze_.

“You... You... You, you, you, _you_...”

In the blink of an eye, Kamukura had taken his wrists. He pried Komaeda’s hands away with ease.

Komaeda breathed in sharply, and it _hurt_ so much.

“Ah... Hah. Haha. Hahaha. You’re the worst.” He leans in, breath harsh and hot against Kamukura’s cheek. “The absolute worst. But I know you’re not the one at fault here. It’s her fault. It’s always _her_ fault.”

_Her fault the world’s like this, her fault my classmates are like this, her fault that even Kamukura-kun—_

“It’s her fault,” he said, glumly. “And Matsuda-kun’s fault, too. Oh, Matsuda-kun, why couldn’t you kill her?”

He hangs his head, taking in deep shuddering breaths.

“Matsuda-kun’s failure lead to such a despairing world. The hope that blossoms for it will be so beautiful that it might kill me on the spot.” He laughs. “I can’t wait! I absolutely can’t wait! But I have to wait around—I _have_ to. Good things come to those who wait. When I get the opportunity, I won’t hesitate—I won’t, I...”

“You will,” Kamukura said coolly. “You have.”

Komaeda bit his lip.

“How boring,” Kamukura went on. “So hapless. So hopeless. And yet, it is no wonder Matsuda Yasuke felt responsible for you.”

“...shut up...”

“You are nothing more than a vicious cycle, Komaeda Nagito. And yet, you cling on out of desperation like any other wretched talentless nobody. Seeking meaning, seeking what is really just self-satisfaction and validation for the worthless life you led. It is hopeless. It is boring. There is no justification waiting for you at the end that will take away nor even abate the misfortune you suffered through. Matsuda Yasuke may have failed but there is a reason why he was closer to her than you could ever _hope_ to be.”

“S-Shut up.”

“You are a pitiful, pathetic, utterly wretched creature, Komaeda Nagito, and as long as you are like this, you will always be doomed to failure. Your luck means nothing. Your ambitions mean nothing. You yourself are nothing and all you will ever amount to is nothing.”

“Shut UP!”

“You know it in your heart to be true. Yet you deny it, again and again, over and over—you are no better that the insignificant populace writhing in despair, nor any different. You are rotten to the core, already on death’s doorstep, if only your damning stubbornness would let you reach for the end that you so dearly desire deep down. What is the point of this continual refusal, this rebuttal of what you truly want? For your own sake, you should give up. Logically, that would be better. Because, _you are nothing_.”

“JUST **_SHUT UP_**!”

Komaeda lunged forward, wrapping his fingers tightly around Kamukura’s neck. Kamukura allowed it—of course he did. He wouldn’t have broken through Kamukura’s grip if Kamukura hadn’t lessened it. Kamukura wasn’t even knocked by the force. He didn’t jerk, he didn’t flinch. Kamukura has as he’s always been as unmovable as a tree deeply rooted within the earth.

What was beneath his fingers was certainly flesh—but somehow, he knew, even if he squeezed with all his might, Kamukura would not choke. He still tries, and predictably, Kamukura merely stares at him as one would the remains of a squashed bug.

Komaeda glared, eyes narrowed dangerously, glittering like chipped ice. Meanwhile, of course, Kamukura’s own stare remained cool and indifferent. Such a vivid, beautiful shade of crimson, those eyes, wasted on such a dull, _dull_ person.

Then, with a sigh, Komaeda loosened his grip and pulled away, staring at his trembling hands briefly before squeezing them tight.

“You don’t understand me at all,” he said, sighing and wrapping his arms around himself. “You’re right about a lot of things, but you really, really don’t understand, Kamukura-kun.”

“Is that not just denial?” Kamukura asks. He doesn’t even rub his neck. Being strangled really hasn’t phased him at all. Komaeda wants to laugh, but the moment he musters one up, it’s already dissipated like smoke in his lungs.

Instead, he coughs, shaking his head.

“You don’t understand. Hope is more than any of that. Far, far more. I’m not in denial, I’m not delusional, hope _exists_ , Kamukura-kun. If you were human, you’d _understand_ that. Hope goes beyond logic and reason—hope is how people _live_ , not just survive. And hope gets stronger the more despair festers, hope is brighter the darker despair gets.” His arms tighten around himself. “Hope isn’t just light, it’s _radiance_.”

Kamukura merely continues to stare. Doesn’t blink.

“Goodness, you really are deeply entrenched in these faulty, meaningless beliefs.”

“They’re not _meaningless_!” Komaeda yells loud enough to almost fill the empty air all around them. “It’s not denial, it’s faith! Because people are still fighting! And they’ll continue to fight, even after she falls! And after that...” His eyes grew wider, breath catching, the grays and greens swirling. “The hope that spills over from the cracking despair will be so _glorious_! Once despair burns, all the way to the roots, things will be—they’ll be...!!”

He ended up coughing before he could finish. Harsh, rough hacking that felt like he swallowed several needles. He manages to swallow, manages to recover, taking and gulping in deep, shuddering breaths.

It’s quiet. So quiet it’s chilling.

And yet, Kamukura emanates a surprising amount of warmth, and he can’t help but press in a little closer. He reaches up to grasp at his pendant—at times like this, it brought him some sense of warmth, some sense of grounding—

But, of course, it wasn’t there anymore.

Komaeda slumps against Kamukura with a sigh.

“Maniacal and ludicrously powerful that wretched hateful girl may be, she is just a vehicle for all this despair. Once she burns, despair, too, will burn. And harmony will return. Hope will be...shining so brightly,” he hummed. “I know it. I’m sure of it.”

“Despair will not end with her end,” Kamukura said. Suddenly, his tone was dark. Cold. Komaeda couldn’t help but shiver at it. “Despair will not end until the world itself ends.”

Komaeda laughs.

“Such pessimism and nihilism,” he remarked. “And you’re the one who claims everything is boring.”

“It is,” Kamukura said. “It always will be. This world, its possibilities—they all amount to the same. Despair, hope, neither them individually or together truly mean anything. They both bring the same—all the same, people will suffer and persevere. The cycle goes on. The world goes on. The world really is so wretched.”

“Huh,” Komaeda droned. “That just sounds like despair, Kamukura-kun. How ironic. You were supposed to be the Ultimate Hope. You were doomed for failure from the start, but still.”

“It is unsurprising,” Kamukura said. “I have already predicted everything. Even her chaos follows a pattern. There is no enjoyment to be found in the human condition. I am beyond that, it turns out.”

Komaeda blinked up at him.

_It’s true. He’s inhuman. But still, hearing him say that pisses me off a little._

“Why do you bother with me?” he asks. “Don’t you have anything better to do? If you wanted to avoid me, you could, so easily.”

Komaeda chuckles, brushing his hair back.

“There’s a lot of about you that’s frustrating but... That’s the part I really, really don’t understand.”

“It is whim,” Kamukura said. “You are boring, everything about you is boring, but... The others are far more so. They have completely given up. You have not.”

“You’re the one who says I should give up,” Komaeda pointed out. On impulse, he reaches out to brush Kamukura’s hair from his face. “No one else cares enough to comment. So why you?”

_His eyes are practically glowing. They’re hauntingly beautiful, really. Easily, Kamukura-kun’s the most beautiful being in existence. And, yet._

“Matsuda Yasuke had cared for you.”

**_Matsuda-kun._ **

“Yes,” Komaeda conceded, even as it hurt. “He had. He cared for her, too. And you, didn’t he? Matsuda-kun really had the worst taste.”

_Matsuda-kun... I really did...adore you so much._

But it would be okay. Matsuda’s death lead to her despair and her despair would lead to the brightest, most brilliant hope. It would be okay. It had to be.

“Matsuda Yasuke is the reason I am here, now,” Kamukura said quietly. “In part because of that, Matsuda Yasuke is no longer here.”

_Huh?_

“You’re making it sound like it’s because of sentimentality or something,” Komaeda chirped. “That’s funny. Matsuda-kun’s dead. There’s no point in doing anything because that’s what he would want. What he would _want_ is to be alive. But that can’t be helped! Not at all! So there’s no point in concerning yourself with him at all!”

_Just because the pendant Matsuda-kun gave me is something I cherish—or, was something I cherished—_

He still felt so frustrated with its absence. But. _But_.

“Matsuda-kun is gone,” Komaeda said, softly, lowly. “To concern yourself with the dead is foolhardy. And it’s stupid coming from you, Kamukura-kun. It’s hypocritical, too, you—you don’t even understand _hope_...!”

“It was not just despair that lead to Matsuda Yasuke’s demise but hope as well.” Kamukura’s tone lowered once more. It was...chilling. “It was the academy’s pursuit _of_ hope that lead to this world of despair. Do you not realize that?”

“Hope can’t be found in talent,” Komaeda answered, unimpressed. “I know that, now.”

Kamukura sighed.

“How boring.”

“It is what it is,” he said. “It does leave me at a crossroads, of course. If it is not talent, then does hope lie within the talentless? Or beyond. Perhaps it does not matter which.”

_In times like these, it’s hard to tell._

“Kamukura-kun, where are you getting at? With thoughts like this—this utter nihilism—I feel like the only resolution then would be to burn down everything to the ground and start completely anew. But that’s no good either!” he chirped. “That’s just starting a new file! It doesn’t beat the game! Using ah, video games as an analogy. For books, just...burning the book at an unpleasant point in the story doesn’t do anything, either. You’re supposed to keep on reading! Right...?”

“Boring.”

“Right,” he said, nodding. “Of course. I’m just wasting my breath. I’m talking to _you_ , after all.”

Komaeda pushed himself up, pulling away.

“I’m going to leave. It should be safe to, right? I’m going to search for a bit. You can just do whatever, Kamukura-kun, I don’t care.”

He turns away and he does not look back. Kamukura doesn’t stop him.

_It really doesn’t matter with someone worthless like that._

* * *

_I think that. But the more I think about it, the angrier I get._

But it’s not like it could be helped! Such was just—just Kamukura’s nature. Kamukura had all his humanity stripped away, this was just...inevitable, really. To expect better from him would be akin to expecting a penguin to fly.

It just was what it was.

_It can’t be helped, it can’t be helped._

“Ah, oh...” Komaeda sighs, surveying the wreckage before him. “It’s worse than before.”

He had expected this, yes, but seeing it for himself was...disheartening. His pendant might just be lost after all.

_But I mustn’t just give up! Matsuda-kun would get angry! Even though that doesn’t matter at all, I still shouldn’t give up!_

With that in mind, he eagerly jumps back into digging.

He had time. He knew he did. So there was a chance, and as long as there was a chance, he’d be fine. He had luck, after all. He had _luck_.

* * *

He doesn’t have a watch nor a phone, so he has no idea how much time has passed. He also can’t tell if it’s gotten darker. But he does perk up when he hears a familiarly wretched laugh.

“Upupupu.”

_I still haven’t found it?_

“Nyahaha!”

_Where is it, then?! It couldn’t have been taken already, right?! It’s just a cheap trinket!_

“Fooound you!”

Komaeda reacted quickly, throwing a rock in the direction of that automated voice. A lucky shot, of course, smacking it in the eye and knocking it back briefly.

_Good. That design flaw remains. Ah, but of course. There’s no fun in wreaking despair with a robot that can’t be taken down._

“Upupu. Upupupu.”

More echoing laughter. Dusting himself off, Komaeda could see a swarm of black and white gathering, red eyes glowing—not as brilliant as Kamukura Izuru, never as brilliant—and a wave approaching, all of them tottering and occasionally knocking into each other, especially when some of them would eagerly disperse from the group to wreck whatever wasn’t already in small pieces. Their laughter blurred and distorted, growing more resounding.

Komaeda fled, scrambling up the debris.

“Why here? Why _now_?!”

Several of the units noticed onto him, and immediately locked on. Of course. Of _course_. They were designed to recognize and typically ignore certain members of Ultimate Despair—but of course Komaeda wasn’t included. Of course he wasn’t. They’d be more likely to ignore Kamukura Izuru than ignore him.

_Kamukura-kun. Wouldn’t he have predicted this? He didn’t say anything about it. Even though he knew I would want to go out here._

Gritting his teeth, holding back a scream, Komaeda kicked back some rocks behind him, starting an avalanche that buried some units and knocked back the others.

_He had to have known. He had to. That’s such—a despairing thought!!_

Komaeda couldn’t help but laugh, pulling himself to the top of the cliff, panting and wiping at his mouth as he did. Laughter was still resounding.

_I can’t stay here. If I can’t rely on Kamukura-kun, then... Then I have to leave. I have to escape._

He rubbed his neck, eyes sticking from what had to be the dust.

_I have to get out of here. I can’t die here. I can’t even get injured if I can avoid it. But maybe I just want to get as far away from Kamukura-kun as possible. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t._

With that, he rushed on ahead, cutting through an ally. There were bodies slumped against the walls, permeating the passageways with the stench of decay and death, but Komaeda ignored it easily.

_Kamukura-kun, Kamukura-kun._

Komaeda hops over a corpse.

_You really, really are the worst._

“...h...ck...!”

He stops briefly, turning to see a trembling pale hand reach for him. Komaeda blinked a few times, meeting a wide, desperate gaze and staring at a disgusting, sunken in face.

“H... Help...m...”

Komaeda takes their hand, and squeezes. He smiles.

“Don’t worry,” he coos. “Hope will win. Even if you die, it will win. You must keep your head up high and believe. Even if—no, especially when you face death. Do you have anyone you care about?”

They shuddered and then they nodded.

“Are they alive? Are they stronger than you?”

He gets an almost answer, but it’s enough. He reaches back, taking out an army knife.

“If that’s the case, then your death could make them stronger. I’ll put you out of your mercy, then. It can’t be helped.”

* * *

He shambles past the city limits. The bridge laid out ahead is fortunately in one piece, but he should still be careful.

Komaeda walks on ahead, spitting into his hands to rub out the blood staining his skin. It doesn’t so much, but it’s something. It’s something.

It’s pretty quiet, now. The sky is getting dark, now. Komaeda looks back at the ruined city and sighs, rubbing once more at his neck.

Things are calm. He’s likely in the clear for now. It’s fortunate that he managed to escape. It’s fortunate that this bridge is still standing.

Irritably, he rubs harder at his neck.

_More good luck awaits. It’s best to look forward to the future._

He squeezes his neck briefly.

Kamukura’s glowing crimson eyes, his long flowing locks, his impassive face all flash in his mind.

_Kamukura-kun is...worthless to think about. He’s absolutely, absolutely worthless. So, why, then, does he continue to weigh on my mind? Aha, perhaps our similarities are making me sentimental. How foolish._

Komaeda laughs softly and self-deprecatingly.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said brightly. “Hope will win in the end! That’s why I can relax in spite of despair, in spite of everything!”

He just had to keep moving forward. After all, it wasn’t like he had any other choice.

* * *

When he investigated Hope’s Peak Academy, he found out about Kamukura Izuru and was promptly disgusted and betrayed. When he recognized the handwriting on one of the written reports as that belonging to Matsuda Yasuke, he froze up. He planned on confronting him, of course, all while squeezing the pendant Matsuda had given him.

_Matsuda-kun, we’re friends, right?_

They had always been friends. Even when his class had started to collapse, when he himself wasn’t sure what to think of Hope’s Peak Academy itself, what was supposed to be the birthplace of hope—the foundation for the future...

“This place is rotten, Nagito,” Matsuda had said once. “Worse than your brain.”

“There’s hope here,” Komaeda had replied. “I’ve _seen_ it.”

Matsuda had been so tired, and, well, Komaeda remembered his own exhaustion keenly as well.

Matsuda was right. Hope’s Peak Academy was rotten to the core. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have waltzed right in.

She claimed she loved him, too. She gushed over him, intensively, right down to his remains that she had gleefully spread along the floor and walls and covered herself in.

Komaeda had nearly broken his necklace’s chain, but, he kept it, cold and metal and yet still so calming around his neck. He hadn’t cried. He had merely steeled himself for the future.

She cooed over Komaeda, too. Sickening. Disgusting. Wretched. Hateful. He hated her more than he even though possible to hate another human being—but she wasn’t just some _human_ , was she?

He had known that she manipulated Hope’s Peak Academy, and in particular the results of the Kamukura Izuru Project. Already doomed to failure—Enoshima Junko had twisted it into the catalyst for destruction.

He knew what Kamukura Izuru had looked like—he looked through pictures. He had even seen the subject prior to the experimentation—the unremarkable face of Hinata Hajime from the Reserve Course. He had perhaps stared a little longer than necessary, but, ultimately, he didn’t care who that thing used to be.

It didn’t matter. None of it really mattered, and yet—they, Hope’s Peak Academy, wanted to claim that this would be the world’s hope. The _Ultimate_ Hope.

Rotten to the core. How long had Matsuda known? It didn’t matter. Matsuda was killed before he could be asked. What bad luck. Such bad luck.

He met Kamukura Izuru himself not long after that. It was funny, really, poetic, almost. After the school had been destroyed save for the rest of the student body and Headmaster Kirigiri locked inside, he had gone to the gardens one last time.

At the time, the encounter had been such a surprise that Komaeda nearly crushed the flowers in his grip. But, Kamukura Izuru had only slowly turned to him.

Under that blood-red sky, surrounded by the dried remains of plant life save for one remaining field of flowers, Kamukura Izuru had been more striking than he ever imagined. Those pictures, those descriptions—none of them did Kamukura Izuru justice.

Kamukura Izuru was _radiance_.

And, yet.

“Did you know him?” Komaeda found himself asking, choking up with laughter. “You knew him, didn’t you? Matsuda Yasuke. Matsuda-kun.”

Kamukura Izuru blinks at him. Komaeda’s smile widens, and he looks past Kamukura Izuru to see the potted flowers that had been set out in the remaining garden.

“Are you mourning him? That’s...” He couldn’t help but let out a snort. “That’s funny. Considering what I heard about you, that’s really, really funny.”

He snickers, and wheezes. It hurts. It _hurts_.

“I’m here to mourn him, too,” he said cheerily. “You know, the wretch who killed him—she’s locked away. With the rest of her class. In that building. Isn’t that hilarious? She’s being kept as a refuge from the world she destroyed. Oh, they don’t know and this is all part of her latest plan, of course, but still, such irony! You know all this already, right? I mean, you have to.”

He grins, and he presses on.

“You’re Kamukura Izuru, aren’t you?”

Kamukura merely stares. And, then.

“And you are Komaeda Nagito. You hold the scent of decay. You match Matsuda Yasuke’s descriptions.”

Komaeda shivered, but he stepped forward, brushing past Kamukura to place his wilted, crumbled flowers along side the others blooming beautifully in the vade.

“Matsuda-kun told you about me,” he murmured, wistful. “Aha... That gives me complicated feelings. But... I’m weirdly happy.”

_Matsuda-kun... Oh, Matsuda-kun..._

He touches his pendant.

“Matsuda-kun must have cared for you, too,” Komaeda giggled. “And she used you, too, didn’t she? That—that disaster. Where the student council was supposedly killed by you—that was really her planning, wasn’t it?”

He gave Kamukura Izuru an empty smile.

“Did you really kill them? Was it self-defense?”

Kamukura averted his gaze, and that was enough of an answer.

“You already seem to know,” he said. “You suspected her from the start.”

Of course Komaeda had. Shouldn’t it have been obvious that she was behind it? And, yet—it was only fitting that Kamukura Izuru take the fall for it. The conceited masses of the reserve course wouldn’t have accepted anything less.

_Aah, I should probably pity him, I suppose. But there’s nothing that can be done about it, now. Nothing at all. Nothing, except..._

“If you hate her, I think that, in spite of my misgivings about the circumstances of your creation, we might be able to get along.” He held out his hand. “Perhaps our meeting was good luck. If that’s the case, I can accept it. Accept you.”

Kamukura Izuru does look at his offered hand.

“...boring. There is no point.”

“A-Ah?” Komaeda pulled back, affronted. “Just like that? I should’ve known! You’re—you’re just worthless!”

_I shouldn’t be surprised, and yet, I’m still so disappointed!_

“Well, then I suppose that’s that,” he said, sighing. “What a shame. I should’ve known. But it’s whatever. I have other things to do.”

With that, he turned on his heel.

“I have a feeling I’ll be seeing more of your unpleasant self,” Komaeda added, tossing a glance over his shoulder. He smiles all the same. “But maybe you’ll change your mind! That might be something! I’ll be seeing you, Kamukura-kun.”

Just like that, he skipped off. All while gripping his pendant tighter than ever.

* * *

The next time he sees Kamukura, it’s because the other is stopping him from clawing out his own throat. The world around them is screaming, screams of despair—screams of _hope_.

_She’s dead. Dead. Dead! Just like that!_

Kamukura holds him down as he screeches and convulses. Kamukura is unmoved, like always, like always.

The world keeps on turning and it keeps on _screaming_.

**_She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead!_ **

“J-Just like that!” he wheezes out, arching and choking out a tearful laugh. “Naegi-kun defeated her just like that! S-She was smiling, Kamukura-kun, she was _smiling_!”

He kicks helplessly, laughing and wheezing and twitching and then, screaming with the rest of the world. He screams and screams until his own throat gives and even then, he nearly beats himself bloody against the dirt. If not for Kamukura holding him still.

Hitching breaths, sobbing intakes, broken laughter, Kamukura just holds him until he exhausts himself. It could’ve taken minutes, it could’ve taken hours. Did it matter? She was dead.

Dead. Just like that. Smiling cheerfully like it was nothing. She died as she lived, with sickening glee as the world fell to pieces at her fingertips.

Komaeda trembled. “Ah... Hah... Ha... Hahaha... Hahaha...!”

His voice breaks, his throat hurts. He wants to claw it out, but Kamukura just won’t let him. Of course he won’t. Of course not.

_Kamukura-kun, why are you even here?_

“Are you done?” Kamukura asks him dully, seeming to ignore the question in Komaeda’s tired, manic gaze. “Komaeda Nagito. Answer.”

“...I’m done,” he whispered. He barely had the energy for it. But only slightly does Kamukura shift above him. “G... Get off...already...heavy...”

_I just don’t understand. You don’t feel anything at all? Didn’t you hate her, too?_

“She’s not gone,” Kamukura told him. “Just because she’s dead does not mean she’s gone.”

_Ah. That’s right._

Komaeda blinked, and a light flicked on within his head. Giddy, a smile spread across his lips.

_Enoshima Junko’s nails entrenched themselves deeply into the earth, just dying—that doesn’t mean anything to someone like her! And it’s not enough anyway. It’s not enough. This isn’t the hope I was looking for!_

“T-That’s right,” he slurred. “That’s right, that’s right, that’s right...! Hope hasn’t fully triumphed just yet...! This... This is just the start of it...! T-There’s still so much more to do...to build...to destroy...! I-It’s not over, it’s not...!”

He giggles, quivering and twisting.

“With this, the talentless masses will rise,” he said. “And hope—hope will be birthed...! These are just...the seeds sown...! Naegi-kun is just...the seeds...!”

“ ** _Breathe_** , Komaeda Nagito,” Kamukura ordered. Helpless, he could only obey.

Breathe in, breathe out. In, out. In, out.

_It’s not over. Not even close._

Komaeda’s eyelashes fluttered and he really, really did feel so euphoric, so excited, so, so, so _exhausted_.

It was in Kamukura’s loosening grip and under Kamukura’s uncharacteristically careful gaze did he finally, finally pass out.

* * *

He wakes up later in a dusty, abandoned house. In a worn bed that smelled of mildew. It’s still a blood red sky outside the window, the window glass cracked and chipped. Blinking a few time, Komaeda pushed himself up.

_It’s like nothing even happened._

But he remembered, of course. Of course he remembered. How could he ever forget, _how_ —?

 ** _Well._** He reached up to rub his neck. _I know how, but..._

Komaeda’s fingers brushed against a chain. His eyes went wide, fingers tracing until they reached—his pendant.

His gaze jolts down to stare at it, to once again feel its cold weight in his hand.

It glimmered back at him, and before he knew it, the tears were flowing.

“She’s dead, Matsuda-kun,” he whispered and curled in on himself. “She died and her body’s in pieces—just like yours had been. Matsuda-kun, she _destroyed_ herself!”

He wept with bitter, bitter amusement.

“J-Just like that... Just like that...! Oh, god, Matsuda-kun, would you have even been surprised?!”

_I doubt it. You probably would’ve expected this—would you have wished it could be prevented like Naegi-kun had?_

The answers didn’t matter. Komaeda squeezed the pendant and shivered as he just let these wretched emotions fall over him in waves.

_Matsuda-kun... Matsuda-kun... It... It’s not over yet._

**_It’s only just begun._ **

* * *

Kamukura checks on him after his tears have been dried and his face is no longer so flushed. Komaeda wonders, idly, if Kamukura had been giving him space while he cried—but he brushes the thought aside. It didn’t matter, after all.

No, he had other things to do. Other places to be.

Even though he knows that, he knows he can’t just leave right away.

“Kamukura-kun, I don’t really understand you at all.”

Kamukura says nothing, but hands him a cannister. It’s of rations. Komaeda blinks at them and then looks tiredly at Kamukura before nodding in gratitude.

He sends a prayer before he starts to eat.

“I really,” he chews. “I really don’t understand you. Mmph.”

_It’s strange, really. Even if I try to think about it logically, or reasonably..._

Well, he was never one for rationality. As Kamukura himself pointed out.

“You helped me,” he said. He touches his pendant. “Time and time again. Inconsistently. I, I wonder...” He trails off. “Maybe you are human, deep down. Well, you’re more human than _she_ ever was, I suppose.”

_Even though you’re still so strange and enigmatic..._

Komaeda swallows.

“With her dead, the Future Foundation is going to be hunting us down all the more fervently,” he said, laughing. “They’ll think they have Ultimate Despair on the ropes without her. And, well, they might as well be right. Unless that hateful girl has more in store, which—I know she will.”

“Are you concerned about them?” Kamukura asks. “Your classmates.”

“I don’t care,” he answered without missing a beat. “Well, no. That’s not entirely true. I suppose I would miss them a little, but—they’ve completely fallen to despair. They’re lost causes. I need not burden myself with concerning them. This is suitable. I was never truly a part of the group, you could say.”

He pauses, and then.

“...I wonder if that was the case for you, as well. Within the reserve course. But, that wasn’t really you, was it?”

“You are referring to my previous self,” Kamukura said. He shook his head. “No, I presently have nothing to do with that past you reference. It is uncharacteristic of you to bring such up. Are you feeling sentimental, perhaps?”

Crimson eyes narrow.

“I see. How boring.”

Komaeda just laughs.

“ _You’re_ boring,” he chirped. He popped another ration into his mouth. “No sense of purpose. Is that why you look out for a mite like myself? That’s pathetic.”

_But even if I say all that and even if I believe all that—_

“I appreciate it,” Komaeda said. “More than words. I think... I might end up liking you despite myself after all. I know you’ll do something that’ll either disappoint me or dismay me later, but... Even if this was the result of a whim that means nothing to you, I can’t act like this wasn’t a significant gesture. To me.”

He bows his head, smile twitching.

“Kamukura-kun... Thank you for everything. I pray you find hope and happiness someday.”

_Even if it might as well be impossible that someone like you will be able to perceive it, much less uncover it._

“It is nothing,” Kamukura says, like it really is...nothing.

He couldn’t have expected anything less.

Komaeda shoved a few more pieces into his mouth.

“Mm, mm. So you say.” Another swallow. He gives a cheerful smile, offering the rest. “Thank you for the food. I’m full now.”

“Keep it,” Kamukura said, raising a hand. “Are you going to leave, then?”

Komaeda nods, slipping out of the bed.

“I am. Do you already know what I’m planning?”

Kamukura does not answer, as expected.

“Back to Hope’s Peak Academy. I need to hurry if I’m to scavenge her body before the others do.” He chuckles lightly. “And then after, I think I’ll head to Towa City. She received much of her resources from there—perhaps, she had more _planned_ there.”

He turns to Kamukura.

“What about you, Kamukura-kun? Do you want to go with me?” he asked. “We can stop by Matsuda-kun’s grave again. I want to. Let’s burn incense and leave behind prayers. Now that she’s dead, I—I don’t want his spirit to be burdened by her any longer.”

“Very well, then.”

**_Ah._ **

Komaeda couldn’t help but beam. Kamukura went on.

“I will accompany you to Towa City—but from there, our paths may diverge.”

Komaeda nodded.

“...the Future Foundation will most certainly rescue the remains of the former 78th class,” he said. “What do you think Naegi-kun will do about someone like Munakata-san?”

“I already know.”

_Of course you do._

“Then don’t tell me,” Komaeda said. “I want to see what happens for myself. I have a feeling that it’ll be very, very interesting.”

_Hope is on the horizon. I must make sure that the dawning is as radiant as it can possibly be._

* * *

  _Always. Always. I must be a stepping stone for hope._

“Ah! Aha! Kamukura-kun! Kamukura-kun, Kamukura-kun, it’s in-tact! Her left hand—it’s perfectly in-tact!!”

_No matter what I have to do..._

“How lucky, so lucky~”

He doesn’t hesitate in activating the saw. Kamukura watches, as always, a glimmering observer in a dark place.

Kamukura watches as Komaeda delicately wraps her hand up and holds it close to his pulsating heart.

“If I make this hand my own,” he said, lightly and eyes rolling back to meet that crimson gaze. “Do you think she’ll become a part of me? That she’ll join me as a stepping stone?”

_No matter what I have to destroy, be it myself or anything else._

“Kamukura-kun,” he murmurs, forcing himself to stand and reaching for the other with trembling fingers. “Kamukura-kun—wouldn’t that be _wonderful_?”

He takes Kamukura’s sleeve and tugs.

“We need to leave,” he whispers against Kamukura’s chest, nuzzling against him. “If the others find us here, it’ll turn out really badly for me. Let’s leave, let’s leave. Let’s go to Matsuda-kun’s grave. No one will bother us there.”

**_Anything for the sake of hope._ **

* * *

Komaeda burns incense and prays at the grave. Kamukura replaces the withered flowers in the vase. Oddly, the ones replaced don’t look too terribly dead. It’s almost as if Kamukura replaces them periodically.

How funny that is.

Her hand is cold in his lap as he touches Matsuda’s grave. Kamukura pulls back from the flowers. They really are beautiful, Komaeda can’t help but think. They’re vivid. Brilliant.

_Like how cherry blossoms bloom all the more beautifully with a body underneath._

Komaeda giggles at the thought. If Matsuda were here, he’d get such a withered look in response. But, well, Matsuda was here... He just wouldn’t make any expressions. Ever. Again.

_It can’t be helped. There’s no use worrying about it._

The weight of her hand in his lap—he can’t help but hold it closer.

**_We must move onto the future._ **

Kamukura does not go inside the warehouse with him. He preps everything by himself—strapping his hand down, tight enough to cut off circulation, shoving fabric into his mouth. Kamukura’s not going to help him. Of course not. He has to do everything himself.

_It can’t be helped, it can’t be helped; it’s all for the sake of hope—!_

The buzz of the saw. His grip doesn’t hesitate; it only tightens.

_Hope, hope, hope._

Matsuda had held this hand before.

_Despair, despair, despair._

She had crushed this hand under her heel before.

_Hope, despair, hope, despair—_

**_I can only reach for the future._ **

Thin sinew, thinner flesh, brittle bones—it was so easy to cut right through. Severing was simple. The difficult part was uniting. That was what _really_ hurt and resulted in mutilated edges that had to be stapled into place.

He manages all the same, and he stumbles out, laughing and aching. Kamukura caught him before he could collapse. They moved on. Time moved on.

Her hand was a surprisingly heavy weight, as was the chain leash later, but he carried both with pride. Kamukura abandons him rather quickly, and he doesn’t see him again for weeks. Months, even.

But that hardly matters at all.

_Hope, despair. Good luck, bad luck. All the same, we must move on._

* * *

Naegi Makoto is only remarkable in the sense of what he accomplished. If not for his actions, he’d just be another face on the street. And perhaps it is for that reason that he stands as tall as he does, as confident as he does.

Komaeda smiles, but he doesn’t feel anything. All he thinks about, really, is disappointment. And maybe, just maybe, he’s rather irritated by this person. This hero who defeated _her_. And now, this hero who wants to save wretched beasts such as him and all of _them_.

“I know she ruined you,” Naegi says and how Komaeda wants to laugh. He does, in fact, laugh so hard that he wheezes and it aches and that just makes him cackle even more. Naegi doesn’t even flinch. He just goes on. “I know this is _her_ fault not yours. I won’t let you die for it. No matter what Munakata-san says, it, it’s not _right_.”

“Not right,” Komaeda mimics. “Not right, says the Ultimate Hope who’s about to risk his life and the world for the sake of the Remnants of Despair! Naegi-kun, you really are something. No wonder even she couldn’t make any sense of you. Someone like me couldn’t ever _hope_ to understand!”

Naegi frowns, but his gaze is so soft that it’s cutting.

“There’s a program that can undo all this,” he said. “One of my friends worked on it. Gekkogahara-san worked on it. And apparently, the Ultimate Neurologist worked on it, too.”

Komaeda immediately stiffens.

“...Matsuda-kun did?”

It’s a slip. It’s a mistake. Naegi jumps right on it as though he were on trial.

“Yes, you know him? He was one of your classmates, wasn’t he? Well, I know he was in the same batch... Were you two friends? Did you care about him? I...” Naegi swallows. “I don’t...remember him. But I know enough to understand that... He was looking really deeply into how to counteract despair. It was something he put a lot of his _life’s work_ into.”

Komaeda trembles.

“...that doesn’t surprise me,” he whispers. Shakily, he grips his pendant. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. Matsuda-kun...”

**_Matsuda-kun...!_ **

“It’ll work,” Naegi tells him. “It’ll work. You won’t...have to worry about Enoshima Junko anymore. Nor will the rest of your class. I promise. I _promise_.”

_Matsuda-kun... Matsuda-kun, Matsuda-kun, Matsuda-kun..._

“O-Okay,” Komaeda squeaked out, choking on a laugh. “Okay, let... Let’s see what Matsuda-kun left behind. Let’s see how good the word of the Ultimate Hope in this despair-recovering world really is.”

He takes Naegi’s offered hand and squeezes tightly enough to hurt. Digs his nails in deep enough to draw blood. Naegi barely flinches, but he still doesn’t falter. Nor waver. It’s impressive, really.

_Hope, despair. Good luck, bad luck. Which will it be?_

* * *

It’s either good luck or bad luck that he finds Kamukura Izuru again on that boat. But perhaps it’s faith. The last person he’ll see before he goes into the machine Matsuda had worked on...

_Of course it’s Kamukura-kun. Kamukura Izuru, who Matsuda-kun had also brought into this world._

Impeccably put together as always, closed off Kamukura Izuru, sitting by the window, an arm resting on his knee, features hidden by the long ebony tresses.

_If it can really erase despair, what will it do to you?_

He doesn’t know. He’s still not fully aware of what this machine is supposed to do and yet—

_This does feel like the last time I’ll see you like this._

The thought causes his gut to well up with an emotion he dare not name. And yet. And, _yet_.

_All this time, and I still don’t fully understand you!_

Before he even thinks about it, he’s lurched forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Kamukura Izuru and squeezing.

“Kamukura-kun,” he murmurs, putting more meaning into that name than he could with any other word. He squeezes even tighter. “ _Kamukura-kun_.”

Kamukura barely stirs, though he does shift towards him, ever so slightly.

“Do not call me that,” he said almost sharply. “They do not know who I am.”

“T-They? You mean Naegi-kun...? The... The Future Foundation...?” Komaeda blinks, biting his lip. “I... I don’t really understand, but... Okay. I guess if this is something you actually care about, then I should respect that.”

_If anything, I feel like I’ve understood you less and less with time._

“What should I call you, then?”

“The name I had prior to this,” Kamukura says. “Hinata Hajime.”

_Hinata Hajime. Hinata Hajime._

He tries to remember Hinata Hajime, but, of course, he doesn’t. He no longer remembers that nobody’s face with everything that’s happened. He just sees and thinks _Kamukura Izuru_. And, _yet_.

“Hinata-kun. Okay. Hinata-kun, Hinata-kun.”

The name slips so easily from his lips and how strange that is. It’s so, so, so strange. And yet, strangely enough, it feels like such a natural name to murmur. He wondered why, but at the same time, he didn’t truly care.

“Hinata-kun,” he murmured, burying his face into Kamukura’s shoulder. “Hey, am I going to see you again?”

Predictably, there is a pause.

“That does not matter,” he said. “From this point onwards, I will be uninvolved with events that transpire. You should not care. It should be simple for you.”

“Don’t say such despairing things,” Komaeda can’t help but say, swallowing back a choked up bout of laughter. “I mean I may not like you, but... After all this time together, I can’t help but care about you a little.”

Kamukura gives a nondescript hum. Kamukura more fully turns to him.

“Komaeda Nagito,” he says, cupping his face. A shiver travels up his spine. “This will be our farewell. And it is for the better. Your thoughts, your words, yourself... They do not interest me. I protected you for Matsuda Yasuke’s sake. That is it. That is all.”

“...That’s...the only reason I even bothered with you, too,” Komaeda mumbled, eyes wide. “For... For Matsuda-kun’s sake. What other reason could there be? I suppose I projected onto you a little but that’s hardly anything. Kamu—I mean, Hinata-kun’s like a blank slate, after all.”

Thoughtlessly, he plays with Kamukura’s hair.

_Still so fine to the touch._

“Hinata-kun... Hinata-kun. What a plain yet poetic name,” he murmured. “Honestly, perhaps you should have kept it.”

“I was not allowed to,” Kamukura said.

_So you wanted to?_

He had a feeling Kamukura wouldn’t answer if he asked. So for now, he brushes it off.

_I wish I could understand what you were thinking. I wish..._

He brushes Kamukura’s hair back.

“Since this is farewell, why not a kiss before he go?” He laughs. “I’ve always wanted to, despite myself. You’re so pretty, K—Hinata-kun. I mean, that’s to be expected but even your facial structure...the shape of your eyes... I find it all very beautiful. You’re not quite my type, but...”

His fingers trace along that defined jaw, those unsurprisingly soft lips.

“I...” He breathes, lashes lowering. “K... Hinata-kun...”

He leans in, and maybe, just maybe, Kamukura tilts a little towards him to reciprocate. The kiss is careful, tentative, and undeniably different from how he kissed Matsuda. Matsuda matched his movements, Matsuda sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Matsuda clearly had no idea how to kiss—but he _had_ tried.

Truth be told, he isn’t really thinking right now about what the case for Kamukura may be. He just lets his eyes fall shut as he focuses on the sensation and the sensation alone of their lips meeting, of his lips moving against Kamukura’s own. Soft wet smacks, soft pants, he can’t help but deepen it a little further. And Kamukura allows it.

Kamukura Izuru _allows_ it.

_Hey, if I reached inside of you and yanked out any screaming remnants of that person that may remain—I wonder what would happen? Would it still be you? I hope so. God, I hope so._

“Mm...”

_I pray it to be so. Because you’re you. You’re many things, but above all else, you’re you. And you’re the one I want to understand, the one I, I—_

“Hah... Hi...nata-kun...”

The taste is enough to get him shivering badly. Just as before, just as before, Kamukura holds him steady. Kamukura’s careful fingers press against his nape, and his heart presses up against Kamukura’s warm chest. His heart is hammering, of course.

He pulls back, puffing out a laugh against Kamukura’s lips, and he tucks his hair back. Then he leans in to kiss his ear.

“Hinata-kun,” he sighs. And with her hand, he cups the back of his neck, trailing her red nails down. “Hinata-kun, Hinata-kun. Maybe it’s better you discarded that name. I don’t think it actually fits you. Ehe.”

He pecks Kamukura’s lips. Once, twice, and then delves for a deeper kiss. As he purrs and squirms, he doesn’t even notice.

And it doesn’t even hurt—of course not. Kamukura is grasping his wrist tight enough to hurt but it’s not his wrist. It’s hers.

It doesn’t hurt, but it’s absolutely a shock.

“K-Kamu...?”

Kamukura covers his mouth so that he doesn’t say the name. Kamukura practically holds him still and silent all while gripping her wrist with undeniable, unbearable force.

“You no longer have any need for this hand,” Kamukura says lightly. Almost casually. Casually. As though he were matter-of-factly stating nothing more than the weather. “Thus, before we are to part, I will do you one last favor, Komaeda Nagito. _Nagito_. I shall save you one last time.”

It hadn’t hurt. It hadn’t. It _hadn’t_.

And yet, there was still a scream from his very heart that ended up swallowed by Kamukura’s hand as though it were nothing.

* * *

He’s limp and silent afterwards, tucked away into Kamukura’s side like some child. Or a lover, perhaps. The thought flickers in his mind, but it doesn’t fully register. Everything in reality has a layer of numbness to it. He doesn’t even realize nor care that he’s drooling until Kamukura wipes it away.

Kamukura had wrapped up his bloodied stump at least. But. But. But, but, but, but, _but_ —

_I don’t understand. I really don’t understand. I just... I want to. More than anything or anyone, I want..._

Kamukura shifts beside him, but he barely registers it. He does, however, perk up, just a little, when Kamukura touches his pendant. It’s brief. It’s quick, but it’s enough that Komaeda can’t help but feel an underlying sense of unease.

_I still want...to understand. But... But... If this is really goodbye, then... For the sake of hope..._

All the same, he must move on. He knows that. He does. For him, there’s only the future.

_Just...the future...even if I don’t know what it’ll be..._

Thinking about it now was nothing short of exhausting, so his eyelashes began to fall. Kamukura strokes his hair. He doesn’t think about that, either. He simply drifts.

Drifts until everything was nothing. Him, Kamukura, Matsuda, Hinata, _Her_ —all nothing.

It would only change when he woke up, regardless of whether or not Kamukura was on the other side when he did. Wake up, that is.

If he could, he’d probably hope to see him again. But, alas.

Everything was nothing. So, it didn’t really matter.


End file.
